


Into The Lion's Den

by tayls_of_elysium



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Drama, The feels, but mostly fluff because we need it, have you seen how he looks at her?, shipper needs, so cute, we need more calanthe/eist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22384204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayls_of_elysium/pseuds/tayls_of_elysium
Summary: Destiny comes in many forms. What if Cirilla and Pavetta were not the only cubs of Cintra?AU. Takes Place approximately three years after Pavetta's betrothal feast.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 70
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I've yet to read the books or play the games. Total Jon Snow who knows nothing aside form the tv show so please be kind if I got something wrong! Calanthe/Eist are so damn cute together and need more fanfiction for them.

Chapter 1: Of Gods and Goddesses

Eist Tuirseach was a man of simple needs. Despite being born in the fiery flames of privilege and Skelligan tradition he was not one who held the desire for power or wealth. In fact, he was more than happy to hand those duties to that of his brother. For decades he served as his brother’s right hand man, overseeing the safety of the isles as naval commander and did so happily. A true islander, he loved everything about the sea: the sparkle of it from a bright, sunny day, the gentle ease it would carry the ship, even its unpredictable nature captivated Eist. Upon a ship, staring at the open blue, gently rocked by the waves was where he felt most at home. At least, until the more recent years. Despite his years as a bachelor with only the sea as his mistress, all that had changed when he met her. 

His wife…

Queen Calanthe was everything he needed but never knew he wanted, until the moment his eyes met hers. In her he found all that he loved about the sea, embodied within a woman. His Queen was of a strong ruthlessness, sheer strength, yet coupled with a gentleness that, though may go unnoticed and unappreciated by others was present nonetheless. She was everything to him and not a day went by that he failed to thank Destiny for deeming him worthy to serve her, at her side by sword and hand. 

It was this duty that lead Eist to find himself where he currently stood, upon the starboard of a ship knots away from Cintra’s southernmost harbor where reports of upstarts and merchant ship raids had reached the Queen, leading her to send her husband to oversee the matter, which is where he found himself for the past few weeks. With the Skellegan skill of his crew, the raids were easy enough to overthrow and the upstarts gradually crumbled as they tasted Cintran steel. He was on the last of the battles against the raiders when an unmarked ship made its way to the horizon, taking deck near the crew’s encampment at the harbor. Ever the watchful commander, Eist demanded the hoist of the colors and was pleasantly surprised to find none other but the banners of Cintra to grace his battle-worn eyes with none other than his Queen at the helm, decked in armor.

“I can’t leave my husband to have all the fun now, can I?” her voice called out as the ships made contact. One could have sworn Eist had sprouted wings as he quickly joined his wife’s side.

“The time has come for Pavetta to begin to learn the ways of the court so she shall oversee the courtly duties while I am away. Mousesack is with her now to aid her so I thought what better time to see how the Cintran knights fare upon naval warfare. It is good for one’s blood and humors, after all.” the Queen had explained, the smirk ever present. Her explanation had fallen on deaf ears, however, as Eist engulfed his wife in his arms amidst the cat calls and the cheers of the men, to which the Queen only half heartedly rolled her eyes and glared at before greeting her husband in return. 

That evening marked the last of the battles against the upstarts and raiders, as Eist and his Queen crushed them once and for all, together, their swords in hand back to back, ensuring none could harm the other. The battle, if it could even be called that was over almost as soon as it had begun. Cintra had been a powerful force to be reckoned with prior and with the Skellige navy alongside it the country had become what many, including the Queen believed to be invincible. The moon had just eclipsed within the night sky when the King and Queen retired to their chambers upon Eist’s ship. He could still picture how Calanthe looked that night. Her hair, held in braids was slightly askew and half undone from the battle and her face was flecked with dirt and blood of the traitors they slew. Her eyes, however, was what captured Eist’s attention and swelled his heart even further with love and devotion. What typically stood as hard, calculating shards of onyx were now pools of liquid chocolate, brimming with not only in delight at defeating her enemy, but also pride in keeping her country safe by her very blood and sweet. Here in this moment was when Calanthe was the most beautiful to Eist. Of course she was breathtaking adorned in fine gowns and jeweled crowns as befitting to a regal Queen, but here, standing before him decked in armor, sweat, dirt, and blood was that of a vision of the Lioness, the fiercest of warriors and a beauty that none would ever eclipse.

He could barely pry the last of the armor off of his wife before his warm hands replaced the grip of the cold metal upon her flesh and he toppled the great Lioness. At least, momentarily. Calanthe was a lioness, after all, and soon pushed him over the edge in more ways than one, repeatedly.

This was about six weeks ago. Sadly, duty soon followed and his wife had to return to the capital the morning after while Eist oversaw the capture of the last of the rabble as well as the defense fortifications of the harbor to avoid any future raidings. The days could not pass enough and the Skelligan found himself mimicking his wife’s habits of working into all hours of the night in an effort to finish the work as quickly as possible. Thankfully his efforts had paid off and the fortifications were completed ahead of time, allowing him to finally be en route to return home, not to the Isles that raised him or the throne room he now found himself often times sitting, but to the arms of his wife. 

**

Queen Calanthe sat upon her work desk of her personal chambers, willing herself to press onward and finishing the correspondence to Sodden before her. Though she still held a quill in her hand, her fingers of the other hand pressed upon the bridge of her nose. It had been several minutes since a word was last written as the Queen found herself plagued by an intense bout of fatigue. While she found delight and empowerment upon a battlefield, the administrative duties that came with her crown seemed to always seep the energy from her. What added insult to injury was that there was often very little point to it, aside from the stroking of men’s egos, whether it be two nobleman whos dispute required her to resolve, or a fellow monarch requesting Cintra’s aid or input in one matter or another. It was peacocking at its finest and she held no use or taste for it. These past few weeks in particular had been difficult for the Queen and it had begun to take its toll on her. She prided herself on her work ethic, but in the days of late it was getting increasingly hard for her to maintain her stamina and her normal habits of working into the late hours of the night. She was grateful more than ever that Pavetta carried both willingness and, more recently, greater ability to assist in the business of the court, particularly as lately the fatigue appeared to be accompanied by nausea and dizziness, which had only shortened her patience and worsened her mood, a fact that the castle was distinctly aware of, particularly the Temerian ambassador who had learned the hard way that the Queen was not in the mood to be trifled with. 

A knock on the door halted the Queen’s thoughts. Quickly, removing her hand from her face, she straightened her posture. Regardless of how she felt, she could not and would not show weakness. “Enter” she called out, expecting yet another courtier or nobleman to press her further.

To her relief it was Pavetta entering with a smile on her face and a two year old Ciri on her hip. Calanthe returned the smile, visibly relaxing at the sight of her beloved cubs. She opened her arms in greeting for the toddler, allowing Pavetta to place her child in her arms.

“Hello, little one” Calanthe greeted, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead.

“I heard you and the Timerian ambassador had quite the discussion” Pavetta said as she took a seat next to her mother. News had been bustling throughout the castle about the Queen’s fury at an ambassador, yet another display of the Queen’s exceptionally short temper. Pavetta had the sense to not add that many castle occupants were eagerly counting the days to King Eist’s arrival, lest the King be able to soothe the ill mood of their Queen. One Knight even had the gaul to comment on the Queen needing some “Skelligan Sausage” as a remedy for her temper.

Calanthe scoffed, bouncing Ciri lightly on her lap, leading to a gurgle of happiness from the child. “I have no use for idle gossip. I’ve always made that abundantly clear but it seems others require reminding” The Timerian Ambassador had been sent by the Dowager Queen Sancia who had claimed to have urgent business to discuss with Queen Calanthe. Out of courtesy for the Dowager Queen of a neighboring Kingdom Calanthe had granted the ambassador an audience only to lose an hour of her life to his foolishness. Apparently the ambassador felt that Cintra ought to be aware of Temeria’s current scandal of its incestuous rulers, a fact that Calanthe personally and politically held no interest in, which only fueled Calanthe’s irritation further. When the nobleman finally finished his overly long description, Calanthe wasted no time in expressing her displeasure, chastising the lord on wasting her time on useless gossip. As such, the Ambassador was left scurrying back to Temeria in both sheer terror and shame.

Pavetta quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “What happened to diplomacy and keeping that ‘mask of neutrality’?”

“My courtesy doesn’t extend to fools who have no courtesy for my time. Because of that cretin I lost nearly an hour of my noon. I’ll likely be working til midnight to finish the rest of my correspondence. Can you manage the entertainment of the other ambassadors at dinner tonight?”

“Of course. Duny has struck up quite the friendship with the Nilfgaardian ambassador so between the two of us and Mousesack we should be able to manage what is left of them. Shall I have dinner sent here for you?”

The thought of food lead the Queen to grimace. “No, don’t bother. I have no appetite for food”

Pavetta frowned. “Are you certain? You didn’t eat at breakfast and barely ate at the midday meal”.

“Mmm. The loads of shit upon these parchments have taken my apetite” the Queen replied, handing the baby back to her mother, smoothing the golden locks as she did so, before picking up her quil and returning to her correspondence once more.

The frown on Pavetta’s face deepened, her cerulean eyes studying her mother’s appearance. While her mother kept on her mask as the invincible Lioness for court, Pavetta knew better. She could see her Mother’s paler complexion, the dark circles beginning to appear underneath her eyes, and the fatigue that would flicker on her face behind closed doors. She pondered the reasonings why before settling one. “I do wish you would try to have something. I wouldn’t want Eist to be cross with me for allowing you to waste into nothing. He returns in a fortnight, does he not?”

Though Calanthe did not make eye contact with her daughter, a flicker of a smile appeared on Calanthe’s face at the mention of her husband, a fact that did not go unnoticed to Pavetta and coaxed a wider smile from her as well. 

“Hardly. The smile is as ever-present on the man’s face as the parchments at my desk. What could ever pull the smile asunder from him?” She would never admit it and always hide it beneath disapproving looks but Eist’s unwavering optimism and good nature was one of several reasons she loved the man so deeply. 

“An ill wife!” Pavetta replied. She dropped her tone lower so that only the Lioness could hear her. “Mother… you aren’t well. I can see it, Duny can see it, the Kingdom can see it, and Eist will see it.”

Calanthe opened her mouth to protest but was beaten by Pavetta.

“Please.” she pleaded. “Have a bite of dinner and let Mousesack look over you, just to be sure all is well.” despite the strength the last few years as a Mother and experience as a more tenured member of the Royal Family had given her, the sensitive part of Pavetta couldn’t stop the tears to well in her sapphire orbs, leading to Calanthe conceding. Fierce as she may be, even a Lioness would defer and give in, for her cubs.

“Very well, enough with the waterworks. Have the servants bring something light and I shall visit Mousesack this evening” she sighed.

Pavetta smiled in relief. “Thank you, Mother” giving her Mother a kiss Pavetta left, infant in tow, much more relieved than when she first entered. 

As the door closed signalling Pavetta’s exit, Calanthe sighed, leaning back in her chair, the dizziness still present, with nausea creeping at the mention of food. Pavetta did have a point. She was getting worse, rather than better and something needed to be done, especially if her state was now noticed by her subjects. With a sigh, she tossed the parchment aside, rising and exiting her rooms. Sure enough, a swarm of courtiers engulfed her, to which she dismissed with a simple “Away!”. The rest of the room blurred out of focus until the Queen reached her destination. With a knock on the door, she waited. It was not long before her knock went answered.

“My Queen!” Mousesack bowed. “How may I be of service to you?”


	2. In the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for all the kind comments! I truly appreciate everyone who took the time to leave me their thoughts and it definitely is encouraging for the writing process. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

“My Queen!” Mousesack bowed. “How may I be of service to you?” Druid may he be, but seer he was not so he was not quite sure what brought his Queen to him.

“I must speak to you, privately.” she commanded, her voice a bit breathless from both exertion from her newfound fatigue and effort to keep her voice low, away from prying eyes and ears.

“Of course,” he quickly widened the door further to allow his Queen passage to his quarters, dismissing the page boy. The Queen took a seat at the head of the table of his workspace, waiting for him to do the same. When he was seated and she was certain the room was empty, the Queen preceded.

“I need you to run a diagnosis on me, with your tonics. I-I’ve not been well.” Calanthe admitted, looking down in slight shame. Ever the consummate warrior, she loathed showing weakness at all costs. It was why she found herself here, in the counsel of her most trusted adviser rather than a Healer or Physician. She could count on Mousesack for his discretion and certainly for his skill.

“But of course, your Grace!” he bowed his head in obedience before rising to his alchemy bench. He gathered various herbs from his bench and set about grinding them to powder for a nearby clear vial. “If I may, what is it that ails you, my Queen? Headaches?” he ventured a guess. Monarchy and migraines came hand in hand, after all, and it wouldn’t be the first time the Queen came to him requesting a remedy for such.

“If only!” the Queen sighed. “I should be glad of pain, for that I can manage and work through. No, it is this damn fatigue. It’s got me so behind on my duties. I used to be able to work until dawn easily enough, but now I struggle to make it past the rise of the moon.”

“Have you a fever?”

“No, no fever. Just this blasted vertigo and, as of late, nausea. The smell of food is utterly vile to me. Truthfully, it’s why I’ve opted to withdraw from meals, less I be ill in front of the court. Wouldn’t that be a sight? The Lioness retching before her subjects?” she scoffed.

To this, Mousesack paused in his ministrations of the herbs. Nausea? The Druid treaded carefully, the seeds of suspicion gradually sown. “How long has this been going on, your Grace? Did you feel this way prior to your trip to the south countryside to meet the King?”

“No, this started after I returned. Do you suppose I caught something while out on the sea?”

The Druid knew better than to speak his first thoughts to the question and smiled inwardly. The Queen likely caught something while she was out on sea, indeed. He focused on his mortar, grinding the herbs into a fine powder and inserting it into the vial, which he shook as he made his way to the Queen. “We’ll find out soon enough, your Grace.” he placed the vial and held his hand out to his Queen. She offered hers in return, pulling a dagger from within her robe and handing the same to her Druid. Gently, the Druid unsheathed the dagger, pressing the tip into the Queen’s index finger. She barely winced as the blade drew blood, which the Mage caught within the vial, returning the dagger to his Queen.

The blood droplets swirled within the vial, turning the liquid within various colors before settling on a deep, royal purple. The Druid smiled, but it went unnoticed by his Queen.

“Is it illness? I’ve heard of various illnesses that can be carried by sea. The Skelleg folk talk about it often enough during dinner”, her nose wrinkled slightly at the thought. The Skelleg folk that now filled her court loved to share stories of their adventures overseas and never spared details, including that of the various bugs and plagues that may creep upon a sailor onboard a ship. One even felt the need to show his feet upon the dinner table, devoid of toes, to demonstrate one illnesses effects upon the body, much to the Queen’s disgust. Her husband had gotten an earful from her that night about the need to instruct his people on courtly decorum.

“No, tis not a sickness, your Grace. Far from it, in fact. It appears I owe both you and the King my congratulations. Tis not an illness, but a child that you carry.”

The Queen was silent with an unreadable expression for several minutes before shaking her head at the Druid. “You grow too bold, Mousesack, with your pitiful attempts at humor.”

“Tis not a joke, my Queen. The vial does not lie.”

She scoffed. “I am beyond my childbearing years, Mousesack. It is impossible for me to be with child.”

“You’ve yet to reach forty winters, your Grace. Women have been known to have children past that. Combined with your Elder blood, you are still very much in your prime.” he reasoned.

The Queen, however, was not convinced. Her mind struggled to accept this revelation, though it spun in its attempts to. “It was hard enough conceiving Pavetta and I was a lass when she was born. Surely the years and wars I’ve fought since then would have rendered it impossible.” Calanthe thought of all the potions, herbs, and remedies she undertook in an effort to conceive. It had taken years to succeed and even then it resulted in only one pregnancy and child. It didn’t help that in the years that followed were filled with several wars, some of which resulted in injuries to the Queen that Healers advised would hinder her ability to conceive, if not eliminate the ability completely. A lack of more children and future heirs was a reality the Queen had long made peace with “Destiny has not been kind to me. What would change that now, for Destiny to bless me with a child?” she uttered softly, looking down.

Mousesack smiled softly, taking his Queen’s hand in a familial way. “Aye, Destiny has taken much from you, your Grace, more than is fair. Perhaps, however, with this child, Destiny shows its merciful nature and kindness.”

The Queen still said nothing, keeping her eyes on the ground in deep thought. For a moment, Mousesack could have sworn he saw her lip quiver before she cleared her throat and sniffed, meeting his eyes once more. “Is all well with my child?”

Mousesack nodded. “Very much so, my Queen. The vial would have indicated otherwise. Based on the hue of it, I would say you were about six weeks along. Does that sound about right?”

Thoughts of the night six weeks ago instantly came to Calanthe’s mind, causing her skin to warm and flush. She could still see the oceanic pools of Eist’s eyes, filled with desire for her, feel his calloused hands upon her flesh, and taste the salt of his kiss as they rocked together upon the waters of the sea within their war ship. The memory was enough to send a stab of yearning within her for her husband. Leave it to Eist Tuirseach to impregnate her upon a warship, she thought dryly. Calanthe nodded in confirmation for the Druid.

“I would caution you on overexerting yourself, your Majesty. Skellegan babes are notoriously difficult to bear and birth, even moreso for women not from the Isles. Rest often to recover and maintain your energy.”

“I shall.”

“Very good, my Queen. I have no doubt the King will assist in ensuring you receive the proper amount of rest and care. I can only imagine how thrilled he shall be when he learns about your incoming new arrival.”

The Queen couldn’t help but smile to that. Mousesack was right. Eist was sure to be thrilled at the news of her pregnancy. While he may not yet have had children of his own, Calanthe knew beyond all doubt he would excel as a Father, for he showed much love not only to his nieces and nephews but that to Pavetta and Ciri, seeing and treating them as his own. The Queen was not one to daydream but she could not help but envision her beloved holding a child of raven hair and sapphire eyes within his arms, humming a Skellegen tune. “Aye, that he will,” she agreed. “Thank you, Mousesack, for your council and assistance.” she squeezed the hand that still held hers in thanks and farewell.

“Please let me know if you need anything further, my Queen” the mage bowed.

The Queen nodded in agreement as she exited the mage’s chambers, proceeding back to her own. Her mind still reeled with the news but the shock was slowly wearing off to be replaced with acceptance and awe.

  
**

Using every ounce of Oceanographic and Astronomy knowledge he had, Eist made his way back to the city in record time, nearly a fortnight earlier than anticipated . His own crew were surprised at their speed, and it had earned him quite a bit of teasing, particularly from his nephew Crach an Craite who had accompanied him on this endeavor with the other Skelligen men. Gone were the days of their Jarl reluctant to leave his beloved ocean to return to land. Now, here stood a man eager to return home to his family, particularly the arms of his wife.

The crew mounted horses at the harbor not long after laying anchor, not even stopping to rest at the nearby Inn. It was both eagerness to see his wife and also of necessity to maintain the surprise that guided this decision. He had worked hard during his time overseas to ensure his early arrival. In fact, his wife was not expecting him for at least another half moon and he did not want to spoil the fruits of his labor. The plan seemed to work as the Castle Guards did not anticipate the crew’s arrival and it was only when he raised his banners that the Gates opened for the King.

“Welcome back, Sire! We did not expect to see you and your men so soon!” Robard, the Captain of the Guard exclaimed, bowing to his King.

“Never underestimate the skill of the sea hounds of Skellige” the King grinned, giving the Captain a pat on the back. “How fares the City?”

“The City is well, your Grace. No recent reports of trouble, aside from the usual occasional rabble between lads at the taverns and such but nothing severe”

“Very good. And my Queen? Is she in the throne room?”

“I believe in her chambers, your Grace. She was not present at the evening meal”

Eist nodded, slightly concerned at that. It was not unusual for his Queen to miss meals for favor of working at her desk so he did not think much of it. He wouldn’t let it continue though. Now that he was back he would ensure she was looked after and not overexerting herself. It wouldn’t due to have an ill and weary wife. “Very well. She’s likely still working on correspondence and worked through the meal. Have dinner prepared for my men and beds warmed for them. They deserve a good, hot meal and rest. I shall dine with my wife.Have one of the servants bring up dinner for the both of us but, be sure that they leave it in the sitting area, outside the bed chamber door” he gave the Captain a cheeky grin and wink.

The old Captain chuckled and bowed his head. “As you command, sire”.

Eist nodded and gave him one last pat on the back in thanks. “Eat, drink and rest up, men. I shall take my leave and see you on the morrow”

“Shall I greet Her Majesty with you?” Crach asked, his mind thinking of the courtly decorum that, as of late, his Uncle had pressed so firmly into his mind.

“Fuck no. I haven’t seen my wife in six weeks. You can fuck your hairy ass off and greet her in the morning. And when I say morning I do not mean early in the morning, lest you find yourself with your balls cut off. And not by me, mind you! Am I clear?” The King scanned his crew and castle garrison, with a mischievous grin.

“As a bell. And horribly visual too. Good night, Uncle. Thank you for your parting words of wisdom, as always” Crac nodded with a slight grimace, his mind now filled with images of his Aunt and Uncle. While Crac, being a young lad, without a doubt carried similar humor with his companions it was quite different when your Uncle uttered the same joke to you. His nephew’s reaction only drew a wider smile from him, and the King walked away with a greater bounce to his step.

“Come lads, let us drink to forget the horrors of war we have seen, and drink again to forget the horrors we have now heard” Crac announced to the crew, leading to cheers from the men. “ Captain, my friend, join us. For at least a drink in homecoming. With what my Uncle has so kindly shared it seems the Queen will be occupied and a quick drink will go unnoticed” he invited his friend and comrade in arms.

“Very well, sir. A quick drink,” the Captain nodded. As firm of a believer he was in duty, he could not deny the Skellegans a quick drink in celebration of their safe return, for just as their Jarl and Queen had joined in harmonious union, so too had brotherhood developed between the Skellegan soldiers and Cintran Knights.

This faith in each other had deepened so greatly that there was no fear of treason or betrayal when one brave Knight spoke the words they all thought “You know I really do thank God you lot are back with the King. Any longer and I fear the Queen would have taken all our balls”

***

Calanthe stood in the balcony, staring out at her country. The hour was late so the streets were empty, with only candlelight and moonlight illuminating the stone walls of the city. Her correspondence still lay, half done, upon her desk, for her mind was still preoccupied pondering the news she received earlier. The Monarch and Warrior in her thought of the ramifications for her Kingdom, particularly the benefits another Heir would bring for both Cintra and Skelleg and what this could mean for their legacies. As a woman, she thought of what it meant for her and her husband to have a child of their own. Ever the Lioness, she loved her cubs fiercely and, had she had a say, her hall would have been filled with them, a true Lions Den. But alas, it was not meant to be. For all of her efforts of imbibing various tonics, potions, and herbs while pressing her foolish late husband in further efforts she bore no more children, aside from Pavetta. Though she never voiced it beyond her own mind, it had hurt the Lioness deeply to know that for all of her victories in a man’s world, she had failed at the basic task of a woman.

But yet here she was, decades later, circumstances utterly changed. Despite the years that had passed, battles fought, and wounds sustained, not to mention having her own grandchild, she was unexpectedly pregnant. She and Eist had never even discussed children, both thinking it was an impossible outcome given their circumstances. Now that was to change and she wondered how to share this news with her husband.

Her ears perked as she heard a slight rustle behind her, her time in battle keeping her senses sharp. She was not alone. Discreetly, her hand slid within the pocket of her dress, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her dagger she kept on her at all times. As she heard the intruder approach closer, her grip tightened and she slowly unsheathed it.

It was only when she smelled the familiar scent of salt that she halted her advances and smiled inwardly. “You know, It’s rude to linger at a doorway, gaping. Not to mention, dangerous...”

“What can I say, I’ve always been drawn to the dangers in life, both at sea and on land,” her husband chuckled as he closed the remaining distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist.Eist took a moment to bury his nose within his wife’s hair, reveling in her familiar scent of vanilla before his lips began trailing soft kisses upon her neck. “Have you missed me?”

“You were gone? Hmm, I hardly noticed.” She quipped, though despite her words her frame visibly softened, leaning into the warm touch of her husband, feeling at greater ease than she had been in weeks.

“Alas! Gone for a few moons and already I have been replaced by my Queen. Serves me right for leaving a brood of Skellegans in my midst. Too much competition, I see. ” he shook his head in mock defeat.

Playfully, the queen wriggled her lower half against her husband, smirking at the sharp intake of breath from him before she turned to face him and rest her eyes upon his craggy face. Her hands trailed up his chest, reveling in the sped up beat of his heart and the thrill of knowing it was for her. She placed her hand upon his cheek, stroking the gruff texture of his face, delighting in the fire she saw in his grey orbs, knowing it was all hers. “Never,” she whispered before pressing a searing kiss to his lips

They lay in bed after, curled underneath the sheets, flesh to flesh. Both were exhausted but beyond content. It was moments like this that Calanthe found the greatest solace in. There was no queen, there was no Lioness. There was simply a woman, wrapped in the comfort of her husband’s arms, reveling in the love and security she found in them that she was long denied in her lifetime.

“Have I succeeded in reassuring you and easing your fears, my dear sir?”

The corners of Eist’s mouth twitched, his left hand gently scratching the length of her back. “I’ve never known you to not succeed, my Queen, particularly when you use that lovely method with your tongue upon my...” she gave him a playful swat on the chest, leading him to chuckle heartily and press a kiss upon her brow.

She gave a soft rare smile upon his chest. “You were partially correct though.”

“Oh?”

“There certainly are many Skellegans in our midst. One in particular has made their presence known”

Eists brow furrowed, “Who, Crac? Oh my love, I know he can be uncouth and ignorant to courtly decorum but he means well. His heart is always in the right place.” He assumed she meant his flame haired nephew who had made himself quite at home in Cintra, feeling so at ease that he was comfortable referring to the Queen as “Auntie Cal” with a bright beam, much to the Queen’s displeasure.

Calanthe shook her head. With their marriage and newformed alliance many Skellegan soldiers naturally filled her halls, reflecting their union. There were certainly cultural differences, particularly in the beginning, between the rowdy Skellegan crew and the reserved knights but Calanthe had to admit, even if only to herself, that they were good for the spirits of her men and energy of her court. They all now got along quite well and her court had turned into a merrier, stronger one with the sea hounds and Knights spending much time in each other's company. Calanthe, being an experienced warrior, knew that the key to success was in ensuring the health and happiness of her men. Crac, in particular was of great help. He was much like Eist. Despite being born to nobility Crac saw himself no different than any others and would often sit with her Cintrans, regardless if they were Squire or Commander. While he was crude and boorish at times he came from good stock and was of a good heart. Here was a lad who was robbed of a marriage agreement and crown but never once did he hold it against Calanthe or her daughter and instead welcomed them to his family.

“No, not Crac. And you know how I feel about the lad. He is always welcome here as a member of our family. No, my dear, this Skellegan is a bit closer than you may realize.” She parted from his arms to raise herself on her side so that they were facing each other. Gently, she grasped his hand and placed it upon her still flat abdomen “It seems we were quite productive in more ways than one upon your ship”

The Queen waited with bated breath for her husband’s reaction. She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting from Eist, if it were whooping, cheering, perhaps even a tear. What she wasn’t expecting, however was silence. Tense silence.

He brow furrowed in concern, the dying fire concealing her husband’s face from her, a fact which Calanthe could not discern if it was a blessing or a curse that she could not see him. “Eist... did you hear me?”

His hand slipped from atop her abdomen, falling flatly to his side. Still in a silent trance he pulled further away from her side and sat up on the bed. As he did so, the angle allowed for the moon’s beam to illuminate through the window and reveal his face to Calanthe.

You would have found greater cheer on a man’s face in a graveyard.

“How could this have happened?” He breathed out softly. The light sheen of sweat on his brow previously from their activities now a cold one of fear.

Calanthe gaped at her husband briefly, willing herself to maintain her composure, for his reaction had caught her off guard, which did not happen often. ”Need that be a question you ask of me, considering the past hour?” She retorted, raising herself to sit up as well. She thought perhaps it was shock afflicting her husband and waited patiently for him to regain his bearings, but to no avail. Several minutes passed and he was still left sputtering and mumbling what she thought was nonsense, with each second dwindling her patience.

“This can’t be... what have I done?” He breathed out, his hand running shakily through his hair.

“Is the thought of a child with me so horrendous?” Calanthe asked, still confused at the disarray her husband at become at her news.

“Yes!” He husband exclaimed.

Her years on the battlefield had left her with many injuries from swords, arrows, maces, even a javelin through her armor once. But all of those wounds were nothing compared to the one her husband just inflicted. She inhaled sharply, attempting to will away the tears that were begging to fill her eyes, despite her attempts at dismissing them.

Her husband noticed instantly and it seemed to snap him out of his trance. “My love, I-“

“Get out.” She whispered.

“Calanthe, it isn’t-“ he attempted to explain.

The Lioness was not to hear it. With a voice of the utmost cold she uttered lowly, “I command it” Never before had she pulled rank on him, until now. He had hurt her as Calanthe, and now he would suffer her as Queen.

Defeated, the King nodded slowly, knowing better than to press on forward. Wordlessly here rose, dressing in his previously thrown clothes. As he did so, the Queen wrapped the sheets on her previously naked form, ensuring he would see no further part of her, for he had lost the privilege to see what was beneath the crown and gowns, both inside and outside. He would deal with the Queen from here on out.

As he placed the last of his clothing on, he opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it, for he quickly closed it. He gave a half bow to the Queen before leaving. It was only when the doors closed that Calanthe let the sheet fall, and laid back down on the bed, tears falling freely.


	3. Timere

Chapter 3: Timere

_“Is the thought of a child with me so horrendous?”_

_“Yes!”_

He had spoken without thinking. The words escaped his lips like an exhale, without further contemplation, like sand falls out of one’s hand. He regretted it as soon as it spilled over, the look on his wife’s face only deepened his remorse.As fierce as the Lioness was in battle and court, she softened considerably behind closed doors, when they were alone. It was one of his greatest privileges that while the world knew and saw Queen Calanthe the Lioness of Cintra he saw Calanthe, the woman. And he had hurt her. He opened his mouth and rapidly sought to explain himself “My love, I-“

But to no avail.

“Get out.” She whispered.

“Calanthe,” he pleaded “ it isn’t-“

But the Lioness was not to hear it. With a voice of the utmost cold she uttered lowly, “I command it” He winced at this tone. While he held the title King and now oversaw the rule of Skelleg it was an unspoken knowledge that Calanthe’s word carries greater weight than his in Cintra but this was the first she had ever took this and pulled rank on him.Gone was his wife, and before him was now his Queen. The fact that she wrapped her formerly nude form with the sheet to distance herself from him only confirmed this. He knew from previous, albeit much smaller, spats with her that to press onward while she was in the midst of rage was futile and would only anger her more so he nodded slowly, knowing better than to press on forward. Not able to meet her gaze, he dressed in his clothes previously scattered on the floor and left, feeling the instant chill of the night.

He wasn’t quite sure where to go, the larger Skelligan and Cintran court having occupied many rooms, leaving it unclear to the King which rooms were unoccupied, and he was in no mood to ask a servant for assistance, lest it spark gossip. He shared happiness like a good harvest, but held onto his sorrows like a self inflicted wound. He cut his reverie by opting to his own former rooms held when he was but a guest of Cintra. The rooms were now occupied by Crach but he felt his nephew would not mind the company that, truthfully, Eist needed. He reached the familiar mahogany doors intending to knock only to approach just as a woman he recognized as one of his wife’s ladies in waiting, Johanka, exiting, a suggestive smile on her lips and a matching one on his nephew’s who bid her farewell from the doorway. When Johanka was out of earshot he cleared his throat making his nephew jump.

“Uncle!”

“I thought I made it clear that you were not to chase the skirts of the Queen’s ladies in waiting? You gave me your word, did you not?” Eist chastised as he entered the room, his nephew in tow.

“Aye, and I keep it still! Twas not I that did the chasing here. I was the prey, I swear it! Who was I to say no?” the lad shot Eist a cheeky grin, much like the one he had shot his crew mere hours ago when all was well.

“You would be a lad wise enough to heed his Uncle’s command. You know how your Aunt feels about your dallying with her handmaids.” he grunted, helping himself to a generous mug of ale and taking comfort in its warmth within his chest. “I am in deep enough shit with her majesty as is”

His nephew blinked .“How? You just got back. What could you have possibly done to upset her this soon?”

Eist sighed and looked at his nephew. “The Queen is pregnant,” he muttered into his mug.

A large, delighted smile lit up the lad’s flame-bearded face. “An heir? My congratulations, Uncle! And impressive if I do say so myself. The strength of the Tuirseach stock! ” Crac beaming in delight, raising a mug of ale to his Uncle in a toast before taking a large gulp. “I wonder, what will a Cintran Lioness and a Skelligan Sea Hound make… a lion-dog? No, no. Sea lion? Hmm… Not to worry, Uncle. We’ll figure out a good name for the wee-one, something comparable to the ‘Sea-Boar’ held by yours truly” he chuckled merrily, taking another gulp.

“Hardly” Eist muttered, as he headed to the fireplace, looking at the fire with a solemn expression.

The expression on his Uncle’s face took Crach by surprise and he halted his ponderings “What is it, Uncle? You seem… solemn.”

“How could I not be?”

“Why?”

“Use that thick, hairy lump you call a head, Crach. Why do you think?”

Realization dawned on Crach and he looked at his Uncle much more sympathetically. in the days of old, the Skellige Isles were inhabited by elves, giants, and ice-giants. It was said that the blood of the giants, carried onward unto the present Skelligans, was what made them great warriors with large builds, fierce strength and fiery tempers. It was why the Skelligan babes were notoriously difficult to bear and birth, a fact evident in the fact that many mothers in the Isles perished during birth, such as Eist’s sister and mother.

This was one of the fears that ate at Eist’s core. What if he condemned his wife to such a fate? How could he bear the loss of her, the loss of his wife?

“Uncle… This is the Lioness we speak of, the star of all the Northern ballads. If there was a mainland woman fit to bear an island-babe t’would be the Queen. Surely you believe that.”

Sapphire eyes stayed locked in the fireplace, though saw no flames. Instead he pictured his Mother, pale and still, life taken by childbed fever. He thought of his sister who, though birthed several sons and daughters successfully, failed to birth the last, leading to both mother and child dead, the child never fully emerging from its mother. He heard so vividly the anguish in the voice of his crew, of the men who left a pregnant wife on the Isles only to return home to a motherless babe. “How could I?” he breathed out. Many other fears pertaining to his wife’s pregnancy were left unsaid, for now, but this, the potential doom he inflicted on his wife, weighed heavily on his heart, and the two men drank in silence for the rest of the night.

-

For the next several days the Queen made it a point to minimize her public appearance within her court as much as possible, favoring private meetings with advisers and the like in her chambers and taking her meals alone. Part of this was due to desiring to avoid Eist, who she had yet to speak to or see ever since their last conversation. She had even gone so far as ordering her guards to refuse him entry to their chambers the following morning and the days after. Despite these measures though, She missed her husband terribly. The anger still festered as well as the hurt but beneath it was was a raw yearning for him. The nights in particular were the worst when she lay alone in their bed, which seemed so much larger without Eist at her side and she loathed sleeping in it alone.

The second reason for her seclusion was that the morning sickness had begun fully, leaving the Queen indisposed. While she suffered the same malady while carrying Pavetta it was significantly worse with this child and most of the Queen’s mornings were spent, clutching the basin. Mousesack had not been exaggerating when he advised of the difference in bearing Skelligen babes. She was thankful more than ever that he knew of her pregnancy, for he was able to provide her with tonics as a remedy. Though the tonics could not fully ease her symptoms they would provide temporary relief long enough for her to proceed with her duties with the help of both Mousesack and Pavetta. Pavetta had discovered her mother’s pregnancy by accident, entering her mother’s rooms just in time to witness her mother curled over the basin. Her daughter had held her mother’s hair back through the whole bout and, when told the tale of why the pregnancy was still kept secret, held her mother in her arms in comfort. She showed further support by jumping in to help with any duties that required it. It was moments like this that Calanthe began to see her daughter as not just a cub, but a lioness in her own right. Pride filled her heart at the thought of her cub, but before she could dwell on it further, her younger cub reminded her further of its presence as another wave of illness ravaged her and she clung to her basin once more.

***

Eist couldn’t take it anymore. He had gone to their chambers the morning after their fight with every intention of pleading for forgiveness and explaining himself to his wife, only to be halted by her guards at the door. The Skelligen in him had to fight the urge to fight any who stood in his way but knew to do so would earn him no favor with his wife, so he had tried again tomorrow, and then the next day, and then the next. It had now been several days since he had last seen his wife and it was eating away at him. It was one thing to be away from his wife due to distance or duty but for reasons such as this? For his stupidity in reacting in lieu of explaining and, by doing so, hurting his wife? He could bear it no more. So here he was, doing the only thing he could do: climb the walls and enter through her balcony. It was a difficult task at hand, as the castle’s protruding stones were limited in size and availability. and he found himself grasping each protruding stone of the wall as best as he could, sometimes by even the millimeter of his fingers but desperate times called for desperate measures and he had to see his wife. He had to beg for forgiveness and explain himself, let his wife see and understand why he reacted the way he did.

After several breaks to catch his breath and even more near falls he made it up the balcony, pivoting himself over it and rolling to the ground in a breathless haze. That is, until he caught sight of his wife curled on the ground, retching violently into a basin. Fear and concern rejuvenated his energy as he ran to her side. “My love!”

His wife jumped immediately, blinking in confusion. “You! How did you- did you… climb the damn wall?” she exclaimed incredulously, looking behind him at the balcony.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he breathed out as he crouched beside her, one hand resting at the small of her back and the other wrapping around her waist to support her form.

Ever the consummate warrior, however, his wife continued to fixate on the manner of his appearance “The hell it doesn’t! If a stupid, old fool such as you can do it, so can others. We need to fortify the walls in case of-” she retched once more, sputtering and coughing into basin.

“Yes, yes, we will get to that, my love, but first, we must get you taken care of...” he uttered softly, rubbing her back as she continued coughing and spouting into the basin. His other hand encircled her waist to rest against her abdomen, which he began to rub in gentle circles to qualm the havoc it was wrecking upon her.

Gradually, the retching ended and she slumped against him and Eist gently picked up his wife from the floor. His hand took hold of hers as the other arm slid around her waist in support, guiding her to the cushioned seating near the fire. He knew she truly was weakened by illness when she did nothing to fight against him and instead grasped, even though reluctantly, around his hand to take his support. After he sat her down gently upon the sofa he retrieved a goblet of water for his wife and withdrew a small vial of peppermint from his robes. Peppermint was a sailor’s trick to ease nausea. Ever the thoughtful Jarl, he always kept one on his effects, lest one of his crew became seasick. He brought a pitcher as well, pouring it into a fresh linen so that the cloth immersed in cool water, intending to cool down his wife’s brow and face and further comfort her. His wife gratefully took the goblet, slipping it slowly before she rested the goblet on the table. Eist attempted to sooth her brow with the cool cloth only to have her push away the cool cloth from him when he brought it near to her face, not wanting him to touch her.

“Why are you here?” she demanded weakly. Though her body still shook from the violence of her illness her eyes stood firm, locked into Eist’s, demanding answers.

“To beg and plead for my wife’s forgiveness. I-I was wrong and ill maneuvered in my reaction. I pray that you grant me leave for my foolishness”

Calanthe shook her head slowly, her eyes still locked on her husband’s intently. Her eyes were hardened, the fire illuminating the shimmer within her orbs. Though no tears fell, Eist could have sworn her lip quivered briefly. “We had never discussed children. It was beyond both our thoughts of possibility, I’m sure. It certainly wasn’t on my mind. But then it happened, unexpectedly, and I was, and am, happy. I thought for certain you would be thrilled at the thought of one of your own or at the very least an heir. Evidently I was wrong.”

Eist shook his head, feeling gutted at the undertones of anguish. “Calanthe, that’s not-”

She rolled her eyes at his dispute. “Oh enough, Eist! Speak bluntly. You yourself confirmed the idea of a child with me was horrendous. Imagine, a Jarl who’s seen the ravages of war, natural disasters, plagues and the like and this, a child with his wife, is what he sees as horrendous!” she screamed.The shimmer in her orbs lifted, and she yielded to the tears held in.

“No!” he bellowed in return. That did it for Eist. He could not stand to see his wife cry and know he was the cause. He dropped to his knees before her , in front of the cushioned seat, and grasped his wife’s hands. She attempted to pull her hands away but Eist would not let go, willing her to listen to his pleas. “No. I am but a man, Calanthe. Every man desires his flesh and blood remade into new life and legacy, even moreso if it is with the one they love and you, Calanthe, are everything to me…”

“Pretty words, masking a bastard truth” she muttered. She stopped fighting against his grip and instead looked away. Eist took the opportunity to shift so one of his hands held both of hers while the other reached to cup her face and gently urge her to look at him

“I swear, my love. I was a fool and blundered when you told me of our child. I misspoke. And I hurt you. And I would welcome a thousand arrows upon my flesh if it would take all the pain I caused you.” he stroked her cheek softly, reveling in the familiar softness against his calloused hand. “It is not horror or displeasure that beats in my chest at the thought, but… fear” he swallowed. “I-I am afraid,” he uttered softly. There was an echo of shame upon his words, embarrassed at admitting such a thing aloud, especially to his wife, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed to understand why he felt the way he did.

His wife blinked, not appearing to have expected this answer. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “You are the bravest man I have ever met. Brave to the point of near-foolishness, I would say. What could a babe do to instill such fear upon you?”

“There is much I have to fear…” he whispered, sapphire orbs scanning her face intently, taking in every detail of a face that though spent the days apart from him, were ever present in his dreams at night.

“Then tell me. Let me understand.” her hands shifted to pull her husband up from upon his knees before her, so that he may sit beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to everyone who has read and commented on this story! It really does mean alot to receive feedback. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and that it helped begin to clarify Eist's feelings and perspective. More will be explained in the future chapter though! Thanks again so much!!
> 
> <3 tayls_of_elysium


	4. Noli Timere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the following excerpt: "Chest 1: Eist Tuirseach and Calanthe never bore children. Some claimed that the Lioness of Cintra – for whom this was her second marriage – was incapable of granting an heir due to her advanced age. However, those closest to Eist knew better. The islander never wished to father a child – not after witnessing what power resided within Calanthe's daughter, Pavetta. In the veins of Cintrian royalty flowed the Elder Blood, which he believed would not mix well with the hot temper so characteristic of Skelligers."

Chapter 4: Noli Timere

_“Then tell me. Let me understand.”_

Her husband did not immediately speak, an anomaly for the ever-talkative and light hearted Eist Tuirseach, though, Calanthe reasoned, much about his husband’s reaction as of late went against his nature. She gently squeezed the hand remaining in her grasp. “Eist…”

“I fear for the child,” he admitted, his gaze dropping as he confessed. “A-And you,”

She understood his fear for her, that did not come as much of a surprise, given the risks associated with her pregnancy. Eist was a protective man when it came to their family, especially her. Many of the wounds he incurred in battle came as a result of him breaking cover in order to shield her, despite her being a more than capable warrior in her own right and him aware of the same. She would always chastise him for it, to which he would always explain, ``This wound would pain me more if it were you hurt instead’’

She loved and loathed him for it.

“I worry about the future our child shall have.” one of his hands shifted from hers unto her shoulder, and gently grasped her in an embrace.

She allowed it. “Every parent does, tis a normal part of being a Father, Eist…” she reasoned.

Eist shook his head. “Calanthe, your heritage holds the greatest of magic, much of which resides in your own daughter who was born from the gentle Roegner and through her sweet nature has learned to control her gift. But ours? What if I have cursed it with the fiery Skellige temper? Many fall prey to power’s corruption, my love, and what better target than a child of Elder blood and Skellige wrath?” he breathed shakily. “Forgive me, my love, for my cowardice but I could not bear to lose you or our child, in childbed or from life. And it is this fear that plagues me now. What if I can’t protect you?” his hand tentatively reached down to rest upon her abdomen. “Both of you?”

It was in that moment of enlightenment that Calanthe softened, her previous assumptions regarding her husband’s reaction evaporated. While the ember of rage was still present within her, lessened by the anguish so evident on her husband’s face. Once again, here was her husband seeking to protect her and their child and he feared he wouldn’t be enough.

If he could only see himself the way she saw him, he would hold no fear for their future, or their child’s future, just as she held no fear for herself or her child.

She took a deep breath, keeping her gaze upon her husband, studying his features, his eyes still lowered in shame at his admission. She reached to cup his left side, willing him to meet her eyes. “You are right. I may die giving birth.” she noted her husband wince, clearly pained by the notion, but she pressed onward with her purpose. “I may die in battle. I may die over the dinner table. Perhaps I may even die at a meeting with my advisors. My love, there is no telling what the future may hold. I have lived my life with no fear of death and to change course now would go against all I have ever believed in.” she whispered, stroking his craggy face, willing him to understand. “The same can be said for our child. As in battle, it is impossible always to be fully prepared for life. We keep our swords close and keep it moving, and that is what we will do now. Our child may hold the gifts of my forebears and the nature of your people. We know this, we will watch for this, and we will prepare for it. And our child will have the best of both of us, not because of how he or she was born, but of how we shall raise our child, together.”

Her husband stayed silent, but his grip on her tightened in response, showing that though he did not speak, he understood her words.

She leaned close to him, pressing a kiss upon his weathered cheek before whispering against his flesh. “If you trust in nothing else, trust in this. Trust in _us_. I do not command it as your Queen, but ask it as your wife…”

Gently he pulled her to his lap and buried his face into her hair, one hand wrapped around her waist while the other remained upon her abdomen. “My Lioness, eternally brave, even as her fool of a husband cowers in the shadows.”

She smiled softly. “What is there to fear, with you at my side?” Her lips pressed lightly against his, tenderly. Pleas for forgiveness, reassurances and words of love and devotion were sprinkled throughout the night as they lay within each other’s embrace.

**

In the late hours of the night, Eist lay awake, his arms wrapped around his wife who he watched sleep, peacefully. Though he and his wife’s reconciliation had eased the heaviness in his heart, a residue of shame still remained for his fear and doubt in contrast to his wife’s unending bravery. He vowed to do better, and be better, for his wife, for his child, and for himself. His hand rested gently upon his wife’s abdomen and silently communicated the same to his unborn child “Zvaere, my child…” he softly uttered in his mother tongue, determined not to fail his burgeoning family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you guys go! Its a little shorter of an update than the other chapters, mostly because of how heavy in dialogue it was of a scene and what I have planned next for the fic. I hope you all still enjoyed it! Thank you again to everyone who reads and supports the story! I truly appreciate it and you guys really do keep it going! 
> 
> <3 tayls_of_elysium


	5. Of Festivals and Sea Lions

Chapter 5: Of Festivals and Sea Lions

The days passed onward and the seasons shifted from the green of spring into the warmth of Summer. The Queen still bore the illness of the early days of pregnancy in the morning, but thankfully it was beginning to abate. The mornings at the basin, held supportively by her husband had begun yielding to mornings spent in her husbands arms in bed instead. Her abdomen was testament to the passage of time. What was once a flat, battle-hardened terrain now softened and began to burgeoned, which Eist apparently could not help but adore, frequently resting his hand upon her. He had made progress since she had first informed him of their child. She could see His fear still lingered but gradually it began to be replaced and dominated by excitement, particularly as their child had recently quickened.

_They had been sitting at the table in their chambers, looking over the scrolls bearing the new designs for the upcoming battle ship models Eist had been designing. While her husband lit up like a child indulging in sweets, the Queen held absolutely no interest in the topic beyond that of cost and capability, but she feigned interest. She maintained a face that, though resembled that of her courtly decorum, was much warmer. For him. He was just in midst of highlighting the new designs for the starboard that would allow for swifter travel when a firm pressure exerted from within her, causing her to gasp and clutch at her abdomen._

_Immediately Eist was at her side, the scrolls forgotten. Panic seeped through him, the fear within him revived and coursing through, unsure at what could have drawn a gasp from the usually-composed Queen. His mind pictured the worst as her hand moved to her abdomen and he dropped to her side in concern. Curiously, there was not pain upon her features. Instead she bore a look he had recognized on her face but could not quite yet place._

_“My love! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Shall I send for Mousesack to-“ she placed her index finger or her free hand upon her husband’s lips, willing him to remain silent. The other hand held on to her abdomen waiting intently but for what Eist was not yet sure. Until her hand grasped his and placed it upon the surface her’s just vacated. He started at the firm pressure against his palm._

_“The child stirs” his wife explained, a soft smile appearing at her face. The Skellige strength evident and clearly present, even beneath the firm stomacher of her dress. He bowed his head in awe, mesmerized. He had never felt an unborn child move before, and to feel his own move beneath his palm was a different thrill all the ships of the world could not instill in him. It was in that moment that he recalled where he had seen that look from his wife before._

_When he had preemptively announced their marriage to the guests of the feast, catching the Great Lioness off guard but left her with delight._

_He stared up at the woman who held his heart in her hands and now a part of him within her, thanking for neither the first or the last time for his fortune to have her as his._

Today was one of the better days for the Queen in which she woke up not to a wave of nausea but to the feel of a sun’s rays sleeping through the window unto her face, complementing the warmth she felt from her husband curled behind her, his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder and one hand resting upon her abdomen. She smiled softly at the hand resting upon her. Eist of late had taken to the habit of “telling stories” to their child in the dark of the night. He would lay beside her on the bed, his head laying near her abdomen as he told various stories their child ranging from his adventures out on sea, or his childhood days in Skellige. She had rolled her eyes at his “antics” calling him silly for speaking to child not her born but secretly it warmed her heart and she loved him even more for it.

As though the objects of her thoughts could hear her, Eist slowly roused from his sleep, limbs stretching briefly before tightening around her once more. Lips pressed against her neck. “Good morning, my love. How are you feeling today?”

“Quite well. I dare say the worst of the illness is behind us. From what I recall with Pavetta the illness subsided once the child began to move.” She replied shifting around so that they now lay facing each other

“Good. Perhaps, since you are further along now we should...” he trailed off. Aside from Crach, Mousesack, Pavetta, and Duny, the castle was still unaware of their impending heir. Part of this was due to the Queen’s disdain for sharing her personal affairs. The other, and larger reason was, admittedly fear, especially as the early days were the most perilous. It was a fear of speaking and tempting Destiny to take back what it so generously gave.

“And stop the gossip about me letting myself go and losing my fine figure? But then what else would the courtiers discuss?” She scoffed.

“Who’s spreading such malice? Tell me so I may rectify that and testify that tis not but lies!”

“I’d hardly call it malice.” She replied dryly, giving her abdomen a pointed glance.

“Oh but it is! Any implication that your beauty wanes is malice of the worst kind! You’d think they didn’t notice how large your lovely breasts have gotten these days of late.The travesty” he declared teasingly.

“You are incorrigible!” She playfully swatted at his chest.

“No, not incorrigible. Merely a man in love” he winked and reached for the offending hand, pressing a kiss upon its palm before his lips soon began wandering to other destinations.

**

Despite his jovial nature, Eist was not one for banquets or “shindigs” as he, and on occasion his wife, referred to them. While he enjoyed the frivolity and light hearted nature of them, more often than not they were for show and political purposes, which tainted the joy for the Jarl. As a result, “disappearing acts” became a favorite part of the shindigs for him, especially if he had a very special disappearing companion with lovely brown eyes.

It was different with the Skellige banquets though, for they were near and dear to his heart. He would never want to be far away from his wife, but it would be a lie on his lips to say he did not miss the Isles on occasion and he knew his men felt the same. It was why Eist always made it a point to bring a touch of the Isles here, such as with Skelliges festivals and holidays, which was where he and his Queen found themselves now. The Isles ballads filled the court, the dance full of the folk dancers, and the sounds of the Sea Hounds engaging in various drinking and wrestling games.

The song slowly came to an end and he raised his hand signaling a pause in between the music. “I want to thank all of you fine and noble sirs and madams for joining us in the celebration of Skellige’s Harvest Festival. It pleases me to know and to see the fruits the union of our kingdoms of Skellige and Cintra have produced. I wish to take this moment to announce that Not only has this been a fruitful season for our beloved Isles but also for My beloved Queen and I” Though they had agreed on tonight he still looked toward his wife for approval, waiting until her nod to proceed. “For you see, noble sirs and ladies, not only are our Kingdoms joined by marriage, but now by blood for by winter time, our child shall grace our halls” The halls filled with cheers and applause, both Kingdoms surprised but pleased at the prospect of an heir for the Kingdoms. Well wishes and excitement lit the halls with abuzz, much to the pleasure of Eist and his Queen who smiled from the head table.

“To the new heir! The child of land and sea!” Pavetta exclaimed happily, raising her goblet to lead the hall in a toast.

She was soon followed by Crach who had, for the majority of the evening been engaged in drinking games and, as evident by his drunkeness, had lost repeatedly. Drunkenly, the flame haired warrior rose to his feet, raising his own mug of ale, splashing half of it unto his comrades as he did so. “To the Sea lion!” He declared with pride and joy. “Sea-li-on! Sea-li-on! Sea-li-on!” He cheered, soon engaging the rest of the Skelligens in a chant, with Draig Bon-Dhu, the jovial skald who was equally drunk as Crach, began to play his bagpipes to fit alongside his countrymen’s cheers of delight for their new heir. Eist could not help but laugh at his countryman’s antics as he sat back down next to his wife.

“The Sea Lion? Those silly looking creatures that romp around in the water? _That_ is what they shall call our child?”

“Sea lions are deceptively strong, my love! You know, once as a boy I got too close to one and the beast just about made me shit my keks when it-“

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. Despite her annoyance at both the new nickname of her child and her husband, the corners of her mouth twitched. “You are impossible...”

“And you are magnificent” he smiled at her, placing his hand upon her thigh under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not to worry, my love. I’m sure they’ll forget that wretched nickname, come morning”

They didn’t. From that moment onward, the child of King Eist and Queen Calanthe was forever known as “The Sea Lion” much to Eist’s amusement and Calanthe’s annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading this fic and for all of the feedback on this fic so far! You all are truly awesome!


	6. The Road to Hell

Chapter 6: The Road to Hell

It was often said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It was a saying that Eist was quickly becoming accustomed to living. Like so many things the past few months, Eist had not meant for this occur but it occurred nonetheless, leaving guilt, what was now an all- too-familiar feeling, upon his heart and lips.

He had only wanted a reprieve for his wife...

As Summer yielded to Autumn, wife’s abdomen transformed from a slight swell into a full circumference. He couldn’t help but adore the ball her abdomen had become and felt a surge of primal pride whenever he saw her, though that feeling was often accompanied by the ever-present worry. Though the nausea that plagued her so heavily in her early days of pregnancy had largely abated, she was now left with the physical task of bearing a heavy Skellige babe.She did her best to hide it, especially as the swarms of ambassadors and courtiers continued to hound her, and she was successful, for no one seemed any wiser. Except for Eist. Loving this woman had left Eist well versed in reading every nuance and shift upon her face and body language.

It was only behind closed doors, away from the outsiders that the mask would fall and she would admit, even if only to herself, how exhausted she was. Eist would do what he could to ease her pain and would often draw her a hot bath or massage her sore, weary limbs, desperate to do whatever he could to help his wife.

It was this mindset that lead them to where they currently stood: possible war.

As King of Skellige he would visit Skellige regularly to both visit his home and also oversee Skellige's affairs personally, for divine right alone did not govern Skellige but also love and loyalty from the clans. It was important for the Skelligans to see their King, especially as he now spent much of his time in Cintra. He had delayed his visit in the early days of Calanthe’s pregnancy, not wanting to leave her when she was in the depths of nausea but now he could delay it no longer and needed to take his leave for the Isles, much to his dismay.

  
 _“Come with me,”_ he asked of his wife.

Part of this was, admittedly, due to his own selfish reason of not wanting to be parted from his wife, but the majority was truly for her and her well being. The Skellige waters and air always gave him comfort and he felt the reprieve from the city and constant burden of demanding courtiers and pestering ambassadors was just what his wife needed. His wife had resisted, insisting that now was not the time for a “vacation”. It was only when Pavetta joined his encouragement that his wife reconsidered.

In the past few months, Pavetta had truly grown into her role as Princess of Cintra and shined in her duties, having overseen much on her mother’s behalf while the Queen was indisposed. Though the Princess and Queen were as different as night and day, it was evident that the Princess held her own strength. The people loved the Queen for her fierceness and bravery and so too did they love Pavetta for her kindness and gentleness in her rule. Pavetta had become a Lioness in her own right, much to the pride of Eist and Calanthe, and it was with that knowledge that her country was in capable hands that the Queen yielded and accompanied her husband to Skellige.

The sun and sea had done wonders for the Queen. Though initially resistant, still with her mind still wandering to that of Cintra, but eventually Eist and Skellige stole her attention and the Queen took comfort in the embrace of the Isles and felt at greater peace, kissed by both her husband and the salt of the sea.

Unfortunately, their peace was not to last.

Mysterious raids began a fortnight after the couple arrived. It started with attacks on Skellige’s merchant ships with the goods pillaged but now had escalated into the battle ships. The attackers had even gone so far as to pivot the heads of the slain Skellige merchants into the Skellige war ships, tauntingly. Skellige was no stranger to the occasional raids, given their history upon the open sea, but there was something different about these raiders. This was not a rabble of criminals on a dingy with perhaps a sword and a spear as weapons. Reports from the scouts indicated these raiders were carried by full, well-built ships, well-armed to boot. Someone was funding this brigade, enabling their attacks on Skellige, and it was this that gave the King concern. The fact that any country at all had the audacity to attack either Cintra or Skellige was unnerving, for their alliance was built on the notion that none would dare make a move on one that powerful. To do so while his Queen was with child made it even moreso. While he had full faith in his ability as a Jarl and that of his men he would not risk his wife and child upon these waters and sought to eliminate any threat on the horizon.

Initially he attempted to keep Calanthe away from it as much as possible, back to the safety of Cintra, only to pay dearly for that mistake. Calanthe alone was a force to be reckoned with. Calanthe with the mood of a childbearing woman was even moreso. She had argued and demanded to be included in all the preparations, even going so far as to commanding the commission of new armor for her changed form… It was only after a heated argument between a husband and wife that both came to compromise: Calanthe would not return to Cintra, nor accompany the forces to sea, but she would remain at the council table to assist in battle plans, remaining at Skellige and overseeing its defense, should the worst happen.

Eist sat at the table with his wife, Mousesack, Crach and Eist's brother, Bran, eyeing a world map intently, deep in discussion. Their scouts had located the brigade of pirates and it appeared they had established a hideout, of sorts, on an uninhabited Island between Skellig and Cidaris. The scouts had watched from afar and noted a large ship with unmarked sails providing supplies to the brigade, funding this rabble further with support and goods such as weapons, livestock and more.

Clearly it was someone with the means and motive, but it remained to be seen exactly who.

“Do you suppose it is Cidaris?” Bran asked, referring to the Isle’s longtime rivals whose history was bloodily entangled with that of the Isles.

Mousesack shook his head. “The bulk of our forces remain in Cintra, which is a stone’s throw from them. They would not dare make a move on us here, knowing retaliation would come so swiftly.”

“What does it matter who pays this rabble coin or who precisely they are? We know that they’ve killed our own and we know where they are. Let us sail at once and show this rabble the wrath of the sea hounds!” Crach declared, pounding his fist upon the table.

“No,” Eist shook his head. “To cut the tail of a snake will leave the snake. We must find out who is funding this rabble and deal with them properly. Only by that end may we cut the head off the snake once and for all.” he turned to his nephew

Bran nodded in agreement. “Aye. Today’s pup is tomorrow’s beast, after all. Reports suggest the barge takes dock once every fortnight so our window of opportunity is nigh approaching. We act now and see it done, once and for all.”

Eist’s adviser and kin nodded in agreement but it was his wife’s agreement he sought. She had remained silent throughout the whole discussion in a manner much unlike her. It was only when she gave a slight nod that Eist proceeded.

“Prepare the men and ships. We set off at daylight.” he ordered his nephew, who nodded in reply before taking his leave, Bran and Mousesack followed suit, leaving the King and Queen at the table in silence.

“Are you well, my love?” he asked, his hand reaching out to gently stroke her face, willing her to meet his gaze.

**

Helplessness was not a feeling Queen Calanthe was accustomed to. Being a sole heiress to a Crown, a Queen at fourteen and a Warrior at fifteen had formed a woman who seized control of her life and those around her by the sweat of her brow, strength of her back, and courage of her heart. She saw herself as in control, commanding her life and those around her. It was only in recent years, specifically that of her daughter’s betrothal feast that the Queen had begun to accept that life was not always at her command.

Sometimes Destiny speaks, and one must listen. This moment of impending war was one of them. She was a Queen to all of Cintra, but mother to two, one of which still lay inside her and needed her most.

Though deep in her heart she wanted to be at her husband’s side, commanding their forces in battle, she knew she could not, for she was too far along with child. To do so would not only endanger her and her child, but also their forces, for the focus would be protecting their Queen and not the attack at hand, which would endanger all of them further.

A Lioness’s pride had its limits and would yield, even if begrudgingly, to reason.

“I’ve never let my men go to battle alone…” she finally admitted, guilt drenching her words. “I should be with you, at your side, leading our forces. But instead I am here, abed, useless while you and the others ride out, possibly to war.”

Her husband was at her side instantly, on his knees beside her so that they made direct eye contact. “Oh my love… Many words can be used to describe you but ‘useless’ will never be one of them. Rabble or not, no battle is guaranteed, this you know as a Warrior yourself. Our people need you, my love, and they will look to you as their Defender. You hold our future” he raised her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against the palm while placing his other hand once more upon her abdomen. “In more ways than one.”

Her bottom lip quivered briefly, her heart and mind still weighing heavily. But she would not speak further of her ‘hysterics’, as she deemed her, and any, feelings that hindered duty. Her husband already carried the weight of responsibility upon his shoulders and should not burden him further. She swallowed every bit of emotion that filled her, willing herself to become the great Lioness she was. She raised the hand that he had kissed and shifted to stroke his face, reveling in the gruff of his beard.

“You will return to me.” she told him. It was a command, request, and a reassurance all at once.

Her husband smiled softly, pressing his lips against hers. “Nothing could ever keep me away from your side…” his arms came around her, as much as her frame would allow and she buried her face into his chest. Briefly, she allowed herself a reprieve from duty to savor the feeling of her husband’s arms. But only briefly. She had to do her duty, as much as possible.

“We should help with the preparations,” she sighed, pulling away from her husband. She would help her husband as best as she could in the battle preparations, ensuring that every soldier left well-armed with potions and weapons, and their supplies were intact.

Though her husband was loathed to leave her affection, ever the dutiful Jarl he nodded. “Aye. But before that, I have something I want to give you. I may not have the chance to do so tomorrow and do not wish to forget. Come, my darling.”

Calanthe gave him an inquisitive look, but followed, taking his offered hand and support as he assisted her in rising from her chair. He lead her to their personal chambers where a large object covered in a tarp stood near the window.

“Go on,” her husband urged with a small smile.

Curious, she approached the tarp and lifted it, unveiling a large wooden cradle. She recognized that wood instantly. It was not from the common trees that adorned near the Isle’s shores, but of the wood that was found in the heart of the island. More relatively to the Calanthe, however, it was the wood Eist used to whittle his creations, a favorite past time of his, when he was out on sea with naught but the water around him, often making little trinkets and toys for little Ciri.

And now he had made something for his own child. Her brown eyes filled with tears.

“I apologize for its plainness, my love. I know it is not as grand as the ornamented ones that rocked Pavetta and Ciri, but I-”

She placed her finger over his lips. “Its beautiful…” she pressed a lingering kiss upon his lips. “When did you make this?” she asked, for surely it was not in recent days with the recent developments. Her hand lightly skidded over the cradle’s shape.

“It’s been an ongoing project of mine the past few moons, late at night. Alas, I was a bit over my head and ran out of wood so I opted to bring it with us to the Isles to finish. One of the few times I’ve ever had problems with wood, as I’m sure you can attest,” he gave her a teasing wink.

Normally she would roll her eyes at the joke, but today she did not have the heart for it, both as a result of the thoughtful gift and their impending separation. Instead she gave him a soft smile, willing herself not to lose any of the tears that threatened to pool. “It’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful,” she whispered softly.

Her husband smiled, pressing a kiss upon her brow, his arms engulfing her once more. “With any luck, I shall be back before our child has the chance to use it and perhaps be able to whittle further designs on it before their arrival. Maybe a sea lion at its top?”

A smack to his chest was her reply.

-

Morning came too quickly and she soon bid her husband and his company farewell, watching his ship venture further away, until she could see no more of it. Not once did she waver, even if it pained her to watch her husband go to battle without her at his side.Even now, as she stood at the Harbor with only Mousesack at her side the Lioness remained and her face stood stoic, refusing to yield to the maelstrom of emotion within her. She was a Lioness through and through and she would behave like it, as she defended both country and her cub. As the wind carried her husband deeper to the sea’s horizon, so too did the wind carry her vow if her husband fell to their foes and did not return to her waiting arms.

_“I will return to Cintra. I will have our child. And then I will return with my army and destroy them”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go! Chapter 6! I tried to blend the drama with the right amount of fluff as well because we all need a good dose of Calanthe/Eist fluff haha. I hope you enjoy! Thank you again so so much for all the feedback!!!
> 
> ~tayls_of_elysium


	7. Not Today

Chapter 7: Not Today

Eist and his men arrived at the island within a day’s journey and stationed a handful of knots away from the island, close enough to still keep watch but far enough to avoid detection. It appeared the isle’s rabble were not well versed in the defense of an isle and no guard was seen in the horizon. The Skelligans sought advantage and utilized this lack of awareness to observe the isles and any fortifications it may hold, for although Skellige scouts had seen the island, it was not in full depth to gain a full concept of what the isle bore. To Eist’s horror, the isle had become an encampment of sorts for the raiders. It appeared to be a mini settlement of bandits encamped at the isle, with a plethora of tents set up as well as small, wooden shacks set up as makeshift homes. Clearly the lot intended to establish their own territory and continue their warfare upon the Skellige Isles. Anger seethed through the King, not only at the rabble so close to his home, but also to himself for his failure to maintain the safety of his land. He and his brethren were filled with renewed determination to eliminate their enemy. The next few days passed in tense silence with the crew of the ship watching and waiting eagerly for the mysterious ship to take dock.

-

Back in Skellige the Queen occupied herself by any means necessary to keep her mind at peace. While Mousesack followed her as though he were her shadow, which she strongly suspected her husband had something to do with, and beg her to take rest, the Queen found she could not keep still. Her back ached from the girth her frame now held and her feet swole, but still she could not sit still, holding the deepest urge to move and prepare. “Nesting” was what one of the Skellige maids had called it, deeming it a natural part of pregnancy with women working in a flurry to prepare for the child, but Calanthe was no ordinary woman. In lieu of knitting, quilting, and the like the Queen fixated on fortifications of the castle, battle plans, even going so far as to polish the iron of the armory by her own bare hands. Anything the Queen could do to alleviate the worry in her mind and the guilt of her heart was completed, in effort to hasten the passage of time before her husband returned to her.

-

One of the first lessons a child of Skellige learns is to never really too fully on plans, for the best laid plans of men often go awry, yielding to nature. Skelligans knew better than to think to control the sea as well as the sky above them. They would study it, certainly, perhaps even predict the nature of the sea and use it to their advantage, but never did they see themselves as the sea’s master, for they knew the waters bowed to no one and to challenge the sea was to challenge the Gods. 

About a week after the crew left Skellige and began their espionage the awaited-barge-of supplies arrived, as mysterious as ever with its unmarked sail, leaving to further mystery on its existence. Unfortunately, the time was not on their side, for with their prey came an incoming storm. The rabble did not seem to notice, but the Skelliges knew all too well by the change in the wind. A storm on the horizon was coming, quickly, and they had but one choice: seize the mainland to conquer its shelter lest they be left to the sea and the sea’s wrath.

It began with fire and ended with blood

They began with arrows, lit with flame, upon the tents,drawing out the table. As the ruffians escaped the tents, so too did the Skelligs charge at them, swords and arrows meeting the flesh of the criminals. To their credit, the ruffians were more prepared than anticipated and met them head-on in retaliation and a battle ensued between the rabble and Skellige. The ruffians blades were powerful but Skellige’s were better and the rabble was brought down one by one by the revenge-seeking Skelliges.

In the wars past, Eist often thought of Calanthe, glancing at her in midst of battle, ensuring all was well and was alright. He had every faith in his warrior wife but just as Calanthe fought to defend her country, so too did he fight to defend his wife. This time was no different, for though she was not with him, he fought for her sake and their child’s, each slaughter of the villain bringing him one step closer to his wife. The sooner they defeated this rabble, the sooner he could return home, to both of them.

One after another villain fell, a pile of traitorous corpses. As Eist glanced around at his crew he could see his Generals leading further charges at the now-retreating rabble, he could see his brother Bran pummeling one into the ground bare-fisted and he could see Crac piercing his sword into another. Unfortunately that was not all the experienced Jarl saw. Just as his nephew brought down what appeared to be one of the rabble’s leaders, so too did retaliation come swifty in the form of a spear thrown at the flame haired warrior.

“Crac!” he exclaimed. Instinctively, he kicked his nephew squarely in the chest, sending the red haired warrior into the ground to avoid the javelin, but leaving Eist vulnerable to the attack.

He felt a searing pressure at his side before he collapsed to the ground.

-  
It started with a pain in her lower back in the morning of a red sun rising. The Queen paid no heed to it, for truthfully everything pained the Queen in the days of late, such was the difficulty of bearing a child of the Isles. She brushed it off and did as she had been doing the past few days since her husband, occupying her mind and hands with various tasks pertaining to the Keep’s defense should the worst happen. Mousesack had begged her to rest and remained at her side since her husband left it but to no avail, for the Queen was determined to do all she could to maintain the safety of her Keep. It was only when the pains grew closer and closer together and were followed by a pool of liquid at her feet that the Queen could deny it no longer. Her child was on its way. 

“Send a raven…” she breathed out in command to Mousesack before another wave of pain engulfed her.

-

“Fuck!” Eist exclaimed as Bran pulled at the spear lodged upon his side, finally prying the spear from flesh.

“Serves you right, always trying to be the damn hero.” Bran chastised. He glanced at the thick spear pulled from his brother’s side “Damn, it was a thick one too. Not a cheap lil toy, this is. Good quality”

“You don’t say? I had no idea,” Eist retorted dryly as he reached for bandages, wrapping the wound at the side.

“I feel like a fucker. You shouldn’t have kicked me away. It should be me with a hole in my gut, not you.” Crac mumble guiltily, his arms folded across his chest flowering at his Uncle.

“Now now, lad. I couldn’t let a spear take down the sea boar. The irony alone is painful” Eist chuckled dryly, wincing as he did so. 

The lad was still not amused, clearly filled with guilt at what may have happened. “I’ll get you more bandages from the ship” he stated as he headed off.

“Have any of the survivors spoken yet?” Eist asked his brother. Though the rabble was largely disposed off they had left survivors to question, yet none yielded as of yet. 

Bran shook his head. “Nay, they’re choosing to bite their tongues for now. We’ll have to yank a few of them out in a bit to see if it’ll loosen the others. We searched for their supply ship though. Terrible monstrosity it is, though. Looks sturdy enough from outside but poorly crafted. Would take twice the time and twice the effort to-”

“I’m not looking for a critique on the architecture ability of this rabble, I am asking for clues. Do we have any indication of who was paying for this lot?”

“Nay. No sails are in the ship indicating its origin as of yet”

Eist’s brow remained furrowed in concern, plagued by a feeling of guilt and failure at the inability to determine the source of this rabble.

Bran placed a hand upon his brother’s shoulder. “We will find them. I’ll beat the answer out of them myself to do it”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Crac hurried back over to the pair of brothers, a scroll of parchment in his hand. “Mousesack sends word!” he handed the scroll to Eist who quickly read the parchment.

His world went cold at that moment and the Jarl, hardened by battle and navy life was left sputtering for speech. “C-Calanthe… it’s the child. M-My child comes. My child comes! Bran, my child comes!” he smiled briefly in awe at the thought before panic once more swept through him. “I-I must go!”

“Go? Don’t be daft, brother! You are injured and a storm will settle in within hours!” Bran grasped Eist by the shoulder. “She may have already had the child... You place yourself at risk for a moment that may have already passed. Let us wait for first light tomorrow, and maybe even at the eye of the storm we can attempt to-”

But that was Eist’s exact fear, to which he nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “Aye… and she may be already gone or near it” he sniffed, willing himself not to dwell on the thoughts that plagued him for at least three seasons “I must go. I can delay no further. My wife needs me and I will be there for her.” for the briefest of moments he hesitated before finally speaking the words he dare not say to his wife, but lingered on his heart and lips “E-Even if only to say goodbye…”

Matching eyes met Eist’s gradually softening in empathy and recognition, knowing all too well what fate may await his sister in law. “Very well… Take our ship and who you need. We shall stay here and join you on the Isles after the storm, using the barge the rabble used for supplies.” Bran embraced his brother, whispering into his ear “Ride hard, and don’t look back. “May all be well, brother”.

With that, the brothers parted ways, one looking on in concern and fear while the other raced the storm in desperation, willing time to slow.

-

For Calanthe, time was an abstract concept, for all she could think about was the wave after wave of pain that consumed her body. She knew only the burn of pain, and the salt of her sweat, pouring down her brow. Though pain devoured her, however, the Lioness refused to yield, refused to even scream to show her pain, even if it was only her most trusted adviser beside her. Between contractions she looked to the Druid beside her as he dabbed at her brow with a wet cloth and brought water to her lips. “I need you to promise me something” she whispered.

The Druid’s eyes looked at her in curiosity. “My Queen? Anything.”

“I-If it all goes wrong and the child does not come, you need to do something. Make sure the child is born” she met his gaze with a penetrating stare, ensuring his understanding, which only deepened when she pulled a dagger from beneath her pillow and handed it to him, his eyes widening in shock.

“Your Grace! I am but a Druid. I don’t-“ 

“Be silent. You know what it is I ask. If it comes down to a choice, you will choose the child.”

“But the King-”

“Eist will not make this decision so I will. It is by my flesh that this child is born, therefore it is my will to which terms I shall ensure their birth, regardless of cost” a lump formed in her throat that she willed to banish but to little avail for it formed emotion and trickled unto her words. “Please…” she begged. She was a Queen of the North, a Lioness of Cintra, a Warrior of Legends. She would never beg for her own life. But for her child? She would give her very breath. “Mousesack… please. I cannot bear to lose a child. I could not. Deliver this child at all costs. Or I will, by my own hand.”

Knowing his Queen meant her words, slowly Mousesack nodded “You have my word.”

“I would have it in blood,” she uttered softly. It was not that she did not trust the Druid to fulfill his word, but rather it was one of the few things she felt she could do to ensure her child would live.

Wordlessly, the Druid took the blade from his Queen and pricked his finger to seal his vow, though he prayed fervently to all Deities that this vow would not be one to come to pass.

-

The next few hours were a brutal trial of fierce winds, callous waves, roaring thundering, and raging rainfall. There was no light upon the sky, but only grey winds, falling water, and darkness, leaving Eist to rely on the most primal of his knowledge to make his way back home. He had made it to the tip of the archipelago of Skellige before the ship lost way, finally yielding to the waves threatening to engulf it, leaving the King to fall unto the embrace of the sea. 

But the King did not yield. The God of Death may have come for him today, but he would tell the God of Death “Not today.”

He swam with every drop of strength he had in his Islander blood. He fought against every current, gulping more sea water than air. And though he knew and felt nothing but cold, fatigue, and pain from the gaping hole at his side, still the King did not yield. He refused to yield until he was at his wife’s side. He would never know precisely how it came to pass, but he soon found himself at the shore’s of his castle and the oak doors of his castle pushed unveiling the battered body of their King who, although fatigued and injured remained unbowed, unbent, and unbroken.

“Where is she?” he called out into his halls, which were beginning to fill with concerned servants rushing to tend to their King. “Where is my wife?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the support and feedback for this fic! I truly appreciate it and all of you! 
> 
> <3 tayls_of_elysium
> 
> P.S. Yep, I'm a total Game of Thrones nerd and had to sneak it in the fic ;)


	8. Stormborn

Chapter 8: Stormborn

“Your Majesty!” Mousesack exclaimed, rushing to the Kings side. The Queen had heard the commotion and sent for him to see its source. If not for his Queen’s bidding he would not have left hers, where he had remained faithfully for over a day since the pain began. “Hurry, gather some healing-“

“Belay that! I require nothing.” Eist retorted, making his way to the Druid past the flurry of concerned subjects. “Mousesack, what news? The child? Has it been born yet? My wife? How does she fare?”

“Not yet, Your Majesty.”

It was a mixture of relief and fear that flooded the Jarl at that moment. Relief that he hadn’t missed the birth of his child but also the incessant worry for his wife who would have been in labor for over a day now. “Still?”

The Druid nodded. “It isn’t uncommon for Island babes to take long...” he trailed off.

Eist caught his meaning “... but...”

The Druid took a breath and uttered lowly. How does one tell their King of the vow to the Queen? “But she has labored for long and has not made much progress. Every hour that the child is not yet born is one more hour the Queen loses strength”

The King swallowed at that remark, the lump that had been ever-present in his throat for the last several months making its presence even moreso known, followed by the race of his heart. “I must see my wife” he breathed out, turning on his heel to his beloved. Nothing registered in his mind until he was at his wife’s side at the bed.

“My love! I’m here, my love, I’m here now!” He breathed out. He grasped both of her hands on his pressing a kiss on both before pressing a kiss to her brow. Though he did his best to school his expression, the look of his wife brought that all too familiar lurch of fear upon his chest. She was so pale and looked so weary. Her fore was drenched in sweat and her lips were the same color as her fair skin.

Brown eyes blinked in surprise at her husband’s appearance, widening at his state as she took in his soaked appearance and bloodied side. “Eist?! How did you-”

“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that I’m here and we’ll get through this together.” he promised as he took a seat at her side, keeping his hands entwined with hers.

“You shall stay?” his wife asked him.

He expected this, for traditionally the highborn nobleman did not attend the births of their children. King Rogener himself was on a hunting expedition the last time Calanthe gave birth, so he had expected his wife to be surprised, for they had never discussed it. Despite their lack of discussion, however, it was always in Eist’s mind that he would be at her side, like always. “Of course. Why should I not? For traditions sake?” He asked gently, smiling at her. “Oh my darling, when have we ever cared for tradition?” he ran his fingers through her brow “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together, as we always do. It’s just another battle, is it not?”

He positioned himself at her head, seated behind her so that her back rested against his chest. “Not another word my love, you can do this...”

\--

The next few hours passed in a blur of unyielding pressure, sharpening pain, blood, tears, sweat, and exhaustion. All Calanthe could think about was the the agony, too shortly interrupted by brief moments of respite. The second day had rolled and there was still no babe. She had given up on not screaming, finally succumbing to the pain and her screams began to fill the hall. Mousesack did what he could with tonics and potions to support her strength and ease the unyielding pain but there was little he could do to assist the birth itself. Though her husband kept on a brave face and never left her side, she could see the terror ignite his sapphire orbs.

Death was surely near.

“Eist... the child is large...” she uttered to her husband softly as he dabbed at her brow with a cool cloth between attempts at birthing her child. She had spent the last few hours bearing down but to little avail for the child came at a very slow pace; one that was likely becoming dangerously slow progress.

“I know, my love. But you’re doing so well...”

“No... it’s too large. I-I can’t...” she reached for her husband’s dagger at his hilt. “It needs to be done.”

Blue eyes widened, the meaning all too clear. He shook his head firmly. “No, Calanthe, no. Absolutely not. You won’t survive that. It’s not an option.”

“It’s the only way...”

“I will not choose between my wife and child” Eist choked out.

“You won’t have to. I’ve already made it for you.” She turned to the Druid. “Mousesack, see it done.”

Eist looked at the Druid in confusion. In reply, Wordlessly, the Druid lifted his palm, revealing the evidence of his blood vow.

“‘No!” Eist commanded, rising to stand between his wife and the Druid. “Mousesack, surely there is something you can do? A spell? A potion? Something!”

Helplessly the Druid shook his head. “Childbirth is not a wound I can heal, your Majesty. It is an act of nature therefore my magic is limited.”

“I will not have my wife butchered open like a lamb for slaughter. There must be another way…” he took the dagger at his side and threw it across the chambers to ensure it was away from his wife’s grasp, lest she grab at it all while his mind raced to think of an alternative option. “Crach was born breech. My sister struggled but he was born and she went on to birth others. How did you deliver him?”

“Crach was born at the heart of summer and within the sea itself, as some of the summer children are. It was not an option for her majesty because of the storm. The storm has only worsened. She will not make it into the shoreline and even if she does it would only endanger her given the severity of it.” Mousesack replied

“Then we shall draw her a bath. Perhaps it will help coax the babe out or at least revive her and give her strength. She holds a Skellige babe, therefore we will use a Skellige remedy.” Eist nodded confidently, though Calanthe wondered if it were her and Mousesack he was attempting to convince or himself.

“Eist...” Calanthe sputtered in half disbelief. Had she had more strength she would have retorted how she was not a dolphin but she was too fatigued even for sarcasm. Death was not her wish, but she had accepted it, if it meant the life of her child. She did not want to endanger the child further.

“Please, my love...” he begged her. “Let us try this. If only for a moment...” he held her hand tightly in a plea.

Brown eyes met blue in contemplative silence before slowly nodding. “Very well...”

Her husband gave a sigh of relief, his tears brimming as he nodded to Mousesack to fill the tub with water.

It was only when she and her husband were alone that she sought one more vow “If this does not work, we will proceed and Mousesack will cut the child from my womb. And you will not begrudge Mousesack for it nor the child. Is that understood” He broke her gaze to look away but she reached for his face and drew it back to hers, forcing him to look at her. “Swear to me that you will never blame my death on our child. That you will love the child in my absence just as you would if I were at your side.”

Her words clearly pained him but her husband nodded, leaning to press a kiss upon her palm on his face. “I swear on my life” he uttered softly. And he meant it. For if his wife’s hand slackened the child would be the last gift she had ever given him he agreed but he did not concede nor would he. “But that will not be your fate, my love. You are the Lioness of Cintra. You will stand your ground, not die within bed.” He spoke with firm conviction that she almost believed it.

Almost.

Mousesack soon returned announcing the tub was filled. Her husband supported her, guiding her gently into the tub before positioning himself behind her so that though he remained outside the water, his arms wrapped around her, both hands interlocking with hers. She didn’t speak it, but she strongly suspected it was so she would not see the worry on his brow. As the water engulfed her in its comforting embrace so too did the agony once more and she gripped her husband’s hands tightly, her breathing shallow and struggled. She wanted so badly to keep going but she was so weary and had little strength left. All she knew now and could think of was pain and she truly thought at that moment that she was within seconds of her life left.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. It’s just you and me. Just you and me. Don’t think of anything else right now. Place your mind elsewhere.” He pressed his lips to her fore. “Picture the cave. You remember the cave, don’t you? Our cave with the hot springs?”

Slowly, through her pain, she nodded, willing herself to focus on her husband and her husband's words rather than the agony upon her.

“I think of that moment often, especially How beautiful you looked in the water with me, in my arms. You know, I wanted so badly to bring you there not because of just the romance but because it reminded me of you. The mountain is so rugged and rough around the edges but warm and gentle inside, if one is only brave enough the venture forward. And, my love, you have been my greatest venture yet. And my greatest treasure, for the highest honor I possess is not that of King but of your husband” he pressed his lips gently against her lips. “But this is not our last adventure. We have many more left and we are on the cusp of our next one. Are we not?”

Shakily she nodded, her body writhing at the pain and pressure invading her once more.

“Bear down, my love, once more. Let us welcome our child” he whispered in encouragement into her ear.

In fervent prayer her mind repeated _“I am the Lioness of Cintra, this will not be my fate. I am the Lioness or Cintra''_ The world around her faded around her amidst a blur of fire and pain. She could feel her husband at her side, his hands never wavering or slacking even through the damage she undoubtedly inflicted upon them. She refused to wonder what Mousesack was doing, only knowing that whatever it was it was escalating her pain. Words were uttered above her but they were all lost to the Lioness, for her prayer drowned them all out. She repeated _“I am the Lioness of Cintra, this will not be my fate. I am the Lioness or Cintra”_ And with the roar of a lioness she bore down once more, not daring to stop, using every bit of strength she had left.

And then there it was; a wave of instant relief for the first time in over two days . Exhausted, she fell back into her husband’s arms. Within seconds, the sound of wails filled their chambers as the child surfaced from the water into Mousesack’s arms. The Druid quickly wrapped it in fabric, drying the child and examining its well being.

“Is the child well?” Eist asked; that being his first and foremost concern.

“Oh yes, Very much so, Your Majesties” The Druid smiled and nodded, handing the child to its parents. Calanthe’s arms encircled the babe with Eist’s wrapping around her, one of his own hands gently resting on the babe’s head. The two days vanished from the mind of the Lioness as her arms felt the weight of their child within them. Brown and blue eyes looked down upon their child seeking the answer to the unspoken question before returning to each other in awe.

“Our son...” Eist breathed out against her, pressing his lips against hers. That familiar taste of salt fell upon her lips at the touch but this time it was not of the sea and its air, but of the salt of Eist’s tears blending with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you again for all the feedback and support! The name will be revealed in the next chapter =)


	9. The Battling Sea God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major major fluff alert because... we need it haha. I'm back in the school-struggle and in need of some fluffing so here's a nice healthy dose of it! Eist's lullaby is Nightwish's song Turn Loose the Mermaids which is a beautiful song and definitely one I recommend! I hope you all enjoy and thank you all again so so so much for all the feedback and support!

Chapter 8: The Battling Sea God

It was a peaceful night upon the sea for the Jarl. The moonlight kissed the waters and waves illuminating a path for the ship upon it. A gentle breeze aided in its journey, creating a light chill to cool but uncomfortably so. Eist had always loved the look of the sea at this time, where there was naught but the light of the stars and moon upon him, aiding his way. There was a great delight and awe in seeing his world before him in the late hours of the night, when it was just him and the sea. This journey, however, was different, for it was not this world that held his attention, but one of a different sort. Where Eist’s world was once the sky and sea, that had changed in recent years. It had changed three, nearly four, years ago when his beloved finally became his and made him the happiest man on the continent and it changed again, shortly over a fortnight ago. There were two beings now that were his whole world; his wife, who slept peacefully in their cabin below deck and his newborn son, who he held in loving arms.

Battle-hardened hands gently traced the sleeping babe’s features, smiling at the sight. He was certainly a Skellige babe, through and through, taking after his Father. His hair was the same dark shade as Eist’s, his skin a similar tone, and his nose looked very much like Eist’s did before it’s repeated breaks from battle. He even had Eist’s cerulean orbs. However, the way the child looked at the world around him was like that of its Mother. The child examined his surroundings in a quiet contemplative gaze, calculating and observing manner that was all Calanthe.

His hand trailed down the babe’s features, tracing down the jawline and down to the babe’s hands. To his delight, his son wrapped his hand around one of Eist’s fingers, giving it a squeeze that was impressive for a child not yet a moon. It was clear the child would be a great warrior one day, if his parentage did not already make that obvious. The Jarl gave a soft laugh in delight and sapphire orbs met matching, albeit smaller, ones. “My boy… you were meant to be asleep! That was our deal, remember? We would go out and take a look at the stars so _Modron_ could rest but you were to sleep right after!” he playfully chastised his son, gently tapping his nose. “Come now, son, lets rest…” he rocked the child gently in his arms, beginning his lullaby once more.

_“A kite above a graveyard grey_  
_At the end of the line far far away_  
_A child holding on to the magic of birth and awe_  
_Oh, how beautiful it used to be_  
_Just you and me far beyond the sea_  
_The waters, scarce in motion_  
_Quivering still_  
_At the end of the river the sundown beams_  
_All the relics of a life long lived_  
_Here, weary traveler rest your wand_  
_Sleep the journey from your eyes_  
_Good journey, love, time to go_  
_I checked your teeth and warmed your toes_  
_In the horizon I see them coming for you_  
_The mermaid grace, the forever call_  
_Beauty in spyglass on an old man's porch_  
_The mermaids you turn loose brought back your tears_  
_At the end of the river the sundown beams_  
_All the relics of a life long lived_  
_Here, weary traveler rest your wand_  
_Sleep the journey from your eyes_  
_At the end of the river the sundown beams_  
_All the relics of a life long lived_  
_Here, weary traveler rest your wand_  
_Sleep the journey from your eyes_  
_At the end of the river the sundown beams_  
_All the relics of a life long lived_  
_Here, weary traveler rest your wand_  
_Sleep the journey from your eyes_  
_At the end of the river the sundown beams_  
_All the relics of a life long lived_  
_Here, weary traveler rest your wand_  
_Sleep the journey from your eyes”_

\---

Calanthe woke within the cabin of the ship slowly, weariness still weighing on her lids. A hand reached out on the bed instinctively, expecting to find babe and husband. Though her husband had built a wonderful cradle, it seemed the new parents were not yet ready to utilize it and their child had spent more time than not sleeping between his parents in bed. As her hands found neither husband or babe, brown eyes jotted open. She rose from bed and wandered the cabin, still seeing neither in the vicinity. The Lioness did not panic though, for she knew where to find the men of her life and instead climbed the staircase to the deck of the ship. She had barely reached the top step when she found the objects of her thoughts at the deck of the ship, a soft melody from her husband carried by the wind.

She could not help but linger and stare, her heart warming at the sight of her husband holding their child and rocking him to sleep with a Skellige lullaby. She had once thought that she could not love Eist anymore than she already did, but their son’s birth continued to challenge that notion. It started when he first held their son. Though he had had previous experience holding babies with Ciri being the most recent babe, Eist had hesitated initially, much to Calanthe’s bewilderment.

_“Eist, come now, don’t be a fool. Hold your son,” she brought the babe to her husband. “At least long enough for me to exit this fish tank you’ve all put me in,” her dry humor had returned, now that the worst of childbirth was over and she now held her child in safe, loving arms._

_Her husband’s hands traced the baby’s face lovingly but still he hesitated._

_“Surely you aren’t afraid of dropping him? He’s twice the size Ciri was when she was born!”_

_He shook his head, “No, that's not it,”_

_“What is it then? What do you fear?”_

_“Waking up,” he uttered honestly with a small smile. “Waking up, alone in a ship, and discovering this was all but a dream”_

_She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. “You bloody fool.” she uttered, though there was no harshness in her tone or action. The bewilderment melted further into endearment which then melted into unguarded adoration when he finally held their son, smiling at her as he looked at their child with wonder and awe and disbelief at the reality of it all._

The lullaby came to an end, as did her reverie, for her presence went noticed. “You should be careful to gaze upon a man so, your Grace. You might give a man the impression that you like him” her husband uttered in play, though he kept his back to her.

“Who? The man I married to save my kingdom?” she retorted in their familiar banter.

“Aye. And the one who did in more ways than one!” he shifted his body to look at his wife, gesturing to the now-sleeping babe with a cheeky wink.

She rolled her eyes at the antics as she closed the distance between them, pressing a kiss on her sleeping sons head before resting her head upon her husband’s chest. Without hesitation, Eist shifted the babe into one arm so that he could wrap the free arm around his wife, drawing her close and kissing her head as she nestled further into the embrace. He cherished the fullness of his wife and child within his arms

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, for the sun was still up when her eyes drifted closed.

“Not long enough for a woman who is still recovering from birthing this fine lad of ours”

“I could say the same about you, having been skewered by a spear like a boar” It still perturbed her that Eist did not allow Mousesack to treat his wounds until he was certain she and their son were well. She hated him and loved him for it. Even now, as both were well, Eist insisted on putting them first and would do all he could to help with the child, even the less glamorous parts of parenthood. _“You take care of what goes in our boy, I take care of what goes out,”_ he had told her.

Eist shook his head “You know, Crach has always been one for dramatics. Ask him how he got that scar on his knee and he’ll spew a tale of a manticore when it was not but a bout or clumsiness that struck him” even now he still downplayed his injuries and dismissed them, only accepting aid and remedy from Mousesack when he was repeatedly assured. “I would hardly call my scratch a ‘skewer’”

Calanthe rolled her eyes. “You are impossible,”

She could feel him smile into her brow, “And you are magnificent,” he repeated, as he always did. He looked once more at their sleeping child, her brown eyes soon following. “You both are.”

She sighed blissfully, curling further into her husband’s chest. “How much longer until we reach the Harbor?” The Lioness was eager to be back in Cintra. Though she enjoyed her time in the Isles she was ready to be home and introduce their son to Pavetta and her family as well as the court. She suspected it was the thought of reuniting with their daughter and granddaughter that swayed Eist into allowing the journey home this early on after the boy’s birth, rather than insisting Calanthe wait more weeks to recover.

“Dawn, I would say. The winds have been good and the seas are gentle. I don’t foresee any delays for us.” Eist looked down at the babe. “Rest now little one. You’ll soon meet many adoring folk. Can’t be crabby on your first day!”

Sure enough, the ship docked at the Harbor as dawn permeated the horizon, a carriage waiting on the shore to carry them the rest of the journey. Basked in light of a full fledged sunrise, the Capital was a welcome sight to them all but not nearly as welcoming as the sight of their family awaiting their arrival. Trumpets heralded and announced their arrival. Eist exited the carriage first, lending his arm to support Calanthe out of the carriage as she held their child. Ciri was the first to greet them, breaking free of her Mother’s hand to run towards them.

“Grandmama! Grandpapa!” she shouted in glee as she ran into Eist’s welcoming arms.

“Hello, wee pup!” he greeted gleefully, tossing her up in the air and catching her.

“Sweet child!” Calanthe kissed her granddaughter on her forehead. “How we’ve missed you!”

Pavetta and Duny made their way to the King and Queen as well, curtseying and bowing as custom demanded before their greetings became the more familial embraces and kisses.

“Is that the baby? Can I see her?” the little girl asked, craning her head to look at the bundle in Calanthe’s arms.

Pavetta laughed softly. “You mean he. It's a boy, my dear. You have a new Uncle.”

The girl's nose wrinkled. “A boy? But I wanted a girl to play with,” leading to light laughter from her grandparents. Eist tickled her lightly in retaliation.

“Ciri!” Pavetta chided her daughter softly before turning to the infant with a delighted smile. “May I?” she asked her mother.

Calanthe nodded, “Of course,” as she handed her son to her daughter.

The smile on Pavetta’s face grew as she looked on her younger brother. “Oh he is exquisite, mother! And the spitting image of you, Eist!”

Duny nodded in agreement with a smile “My most sincere congratulations. He certainly is an impressive lad! Quite a build on him too! If I recall, Ciri was nearly half his size at his age. He’s a stocky lad, he is,”

Calanthe gave a dry laugh, “Aye, don’t I know it indeed”

“Come, Mother, we’ve prepared you a welcome feast. The court has been eager to meet our new heir,” Pavetta smiled brightly as she handed the babe back to his mother, leading the way inside.

As the royal family made their way back inside to their court, Eist smiled once more at his son. “Welcome to the lion’s den, my child…”

_It was a beautiful irony in its own way, that two of the greatest military tacticians who strived to plan every battle down to the last second had not succeeded in preparing a name for their child. Several days after the child was born and the boy was still nameless, with his parents still actively debating and compromising on the name. Calanthe had wanted a name to honor his heritage and roots, while Eist was hesitant on giving a name of their forebears, for he wanted his son to have a name of his own, as a child of the Lioness and Jarl would already bear much weight for a boy to bear and live up to. So the parents compromised, and instead turned to a name to reflect what they wanted for their precious son and the hopes and dreams they held for him. It was this path that lead them to finally arrive at their destination._

_Viggo Aegir Tuirseach_

_The Battling Sea God of Clan Tuirseach,_

_They both selected the first name, for both knew beyond a doubt that their child would be a warrior who would defend his countries fiercely. Eist had chosen the second name, wanting one that proudly showed his islander heritage. The third name was Calanthe’s request, which caught Eist off guard. Surnames were the Skellige way, but not the Cintran way, for Cintran tradition called for three separate names. He asked his wife why to which she gently smiled._

_“What of tradition?”_

_“Since when did we care about tradition?” she asked with an arch of her raven brow, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Our son is a Skellige child, through and through. I would have him be of Skellige… and be Cintra’s greatest ally when Pavetta sits at the throne.” she replied._

_Eist blinked in surprise, though his heart filled with pride at having his son, his own flesh and blood, a part of Skellige. Much of his life was yielded to Cintra, which he did so happily, for it meant it was with his wife, who was his greatest love. He had expected the same for his son, to have his legacy yield and become Cintra’s. To hear otherwise filled his heart with joy, and hope to have his legacy for Skellige continued through his own son. “You would give our son to Skellige, and not Cintra?”_

_Calanthe nodded. “Yes. He will be the Heir of Skellige and Prince of Cintra, third in line, after Pavetta and Ciri.”_

_Tears brimmed Eist’s eyes and he smiled softly. “Are you certain, my love? He may be the Heir and he is the son of the King, but he may not necessarily rule. That will still be up to the clans to elect him, if they deem him worthy.”_

_“I know. And it is as it should be. In these past few months Pavetta has proven herself worthy of being Queen of CIntra. Viggo shall do the same, for Skellige.”_

_Her husband smiled with a nod. “Aye, that he will. A child born of land and sea, he shall be unstoppable.” he pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead before kissing his wife gently. It was not long before the family fell asleep, wrapped in each others arms._

The doors to the Dining Hall swung open, the trumpet announcing their arrival once more. Mousesack and Crach, who had arrived back at Cintra shortly after Viggo’s birth to share the news with the rest of the royal family, stood at the center with the rest of the courtiers, waiting with a smile. “Your majesties!” he greeted, leading the room in a bow. “Welcome home!”

Queen Calanthe smiled and nodded at her bowing subjects. “Thank you, noble sirs and madams. Cintra is indeed a welcome sight, not just for me, but also for the newest member of my family. May I present to you all our son, Viggo Aegir Tuirseach Heir of Skellige and Prince of Cintra, third in line for the throne. I assume that's agreeable?”

Inquisitive looks were present among the courtiers at this peculiar turn of events, for Cintran law held that male heirs hold precedence, but they knew better than to question their Queen, for to react poorly would, as their King so kindly reminded them in times past, would lead to them facing Lioness and Sea Hounds of Skellige. Perhaps the time to question succession would come, but it would not be this day.

“Delightful” the Queen smirked at her courtiers before smiling down at her babe.

Mousesack raised a goblet of wine in honor of the babe. “To our Prince! May the Gods Bless You, Always!”

  
The rest of the Courtiers followed suit, offering their goblets in celebration of their Prince, offering their own cheers as well, the festivities beginning in feasts and drink.

“Congratulations, your Grace!”

“May Destiny keep you forever safe, my Prince!”

It was not long before the good wishes were soon followed by the all too familiar drunken cheer from Crach and the rest of the Skelligens. “Sea-Li-On! Sea-Li-On! Sea-Li-On! Three cheers for the Stormborn Sealion!” with Draig-Bon-Dhu’s bagpipe medley following suite.

Calanthe looked to her husband with a glare at the antics of the Skelliges, to which her husband could only smile. “Well, at least now they’ve added ‘Stormborn’ to it. Its a step in the right direction, wouldn’t you say, my love? And it is quite a catchy tune.”

She rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the babe in her arms, though Eist could see the corners of her mouth twitch. “You are impossible.”

“And you are magnificent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!!
> 
> So, real talk, lol, I'm lowkey torn on how to continue the fic, if I should wrap it in an epilogue or expand it a few more chapters with time jumps of their family life knotted in with some of the show's events. Please let me know what you guys think! 
> 
> Thanks so much!!!  
> ~tayls_of_elysium


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